The Story of Baelor Stark
by BaelorStark
Summary: Baelor Stark, Born 284AL is the 2nd eldest son of Lord Eddard Stark and Catelyn Tully. This is the story of his life and the many challenges he faces when he falls in love with someone he is supposed to despise. Shall contain Nudity, Profanity and High Level of Descriptive Violence.


Baelor spied the beast that he had been tracking for the better part of the day, a great wild boar that was as cunning as it was powerful. It had taken him a while, but he was eventually able to track the beast to its home, a dark thatch of trees deep within the bowels of the Wolfswood, where no-one dared to venture due to the many beasts that roamed the area. He quietly aimed his longbow at the beast, making sure his arm was strong and steady before he notched an arrow to the bowstring.

He drew back the bowstring, his arm muscles becoming visible under the strain of the bow. Baelor closed one eye and took a deep breath, relieving his body of all pent up worries and outside influences, and as he did so everything seemed to become less important, and his mind more focused.

The boar continued to feast on its pray, making those disgusting sounds only a pig could make , unaware of its current situation, unaware that it was moments away from death.

The arrow sawed through the air, whistling as it went, before embedding itself into the neck of the unsuspecting animal. The boar went wild as the arrow pierced its thick skin, proving why the boar was known as a dangerous animal when it didn't die from the wound that should've have killed it.

Baelor notched another arrow, eager to get this over with so he could get back to Winterfell, as chasing animals through the forest all day wasn't as easy as it appeared. Another arrow went flying through the air, once again finding its mark beside the previously fired arrow, getting a loud shrieking sound from the boar in return.

From his place within the bushes, Baelor watched on as the boar stumbled around, the arrows sticking from his neck and blood spilling forth, staining the ground below. He watched on in silence, taking no joy in the suffering of the animal, in all honesty wished he didn't have to be the one to go hunting, but as he was the best at tracking and with a bow, the duty fell to him. He knew that if he spoke to his father about picking someone else he would gladly do so, but he was nearly a man grown, and as such it was up to him to do things that weren't always easy, nor particularly to his liking.

The boar thrashed around wildly, creating a great deal of noise as it shrieked in agony, trying to numb the overwhelming pain that it felt, before finally succumbing it's wounds and falling flat on its side, shaking the ground as it did so.

Baelor made his way towards the fallen beast, making sure to make as little as noise as possible, lest he draw any more creatures to his location. Sitting upon the ground before the boar he prayed to the gods, both the Old and the New in respect for the life he had taken, and also for forgiveness.

He made quick work of removing the arrow shaft from the beast's neck, cleaning them with a piece of cloth from his pack, before depositing them within his quiver. He knew he had no hope of lifting the boar as it was much larger and heavier than he; instead he rummaged through his pack and retrieved a large piece of rope.

Once he had successfully fastened the rope around the boar in a way that wouldn't come undone, he grabbed the other end of the rope, and started to slowly make his way back towards his horse, the boar dragging behind him.

Dragging the boar was a chore, and required all of his strength, but it wasn't long before he began to see familiar scenery, and so he pressed on, eager to get back to his family and the comfort of home.

Half an hour later saw Baelor arrive at the location where he had tethered his horses to await his return, as bringing them into the deeper parts of the Wolfswood would be sending them to their slaughter.

Letting go of the rope he found himself a seat upon the floor, trying to regain his breath after pulling the heavy burden of the boar. His body ached all over, his body covered in a thin layer of sweat and grim, and his hands raw from where he had gripped the rope with all his strength.

Standing up from his position on the ground, Baelor made his made way towards his horses, two incredibly fine creatures by the names of Abraxas and Honora. Abraxsas was a fully white stallion, a rare occurrence in the breeding of horses, who was a gift for his 13th name-day from his foster father Stannis Baratheon. Honora on the other hand was a dark brown color, and also his father's horse, which he had only brought with him so that his father believed he was safer, and so he could bring back any animal he caught.

Both brayed with excitement at seeing him, shaking their heads in the way horses do, trying to vie for his undivided attention. Baelor stood between them, rubbing their backs and patting their flanks, before leaving them in order to retrieve the dead boar, else he be late in returning home.

Using the same rope he used to drag the boar, he tied the animal to the back of Honora's back, who struggle under the enormous wait of the beast, but eventually came adapted to it.

Putting his leg in the stirrup, he swung himself into the saddle, and then grabbing the reins of both Honora and Abraxas proceeded to leave the Wolfswood at a slow trot, the fruits of his many hours of labour trailing behind him.

Baelor was so relieved that he was able to just sit in his saddle as his horse did all of the work, hunting alone was a hard task, and undeniably something he hoped wasn't a regular occurrence. His father had insisted that a party accompany him on his trip, that it wasn't safe to travel in the Wolfswood alone. Baelor had argued adamantly against it, knowing that the only way to prove to his father that he was able to handle himself was to do something dangerous without the help of somebody else. He had had to do something similar whilst under the care of his foster father, although admittedly this little adventure had been ultimately easier.

The sky had darkened and the temperature had dropped below freezing before the outline of the great castle of Winterfell came into view and with it the promise of better food, better company and some well-deserved rest.


End file.
